My Heart's Desire
by mariel123
Summary: This is Emily's tale, told from her POV. It is part of the Smallest Things A/U and picks up where All the Pieces of Me left off. Rated M for adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

My Heart's Desire

**A/N: In the little A/U universe that I began writing with, which I call "The Smallest Things A/U" because my stories are part of that initial storyline, Ike didn't die but lived on to marry Emily Metcalfe. In time I began to think, this is all very lovely and happy, but what of Emily? She hasn't really been given a whole lot to say.**

**So. This is Emily's tale, most of which is A/U and doesn't necessarily follow everything we learned about her in season 3's episode "Presence of Mine Enemies".**

Prologue

Though the hour was late, it was still too early to go to bed. Baby Maggie would soon awaken for her bedtime feeding, so I busied myself folding the next day's clean diapers and placed the tall stack on the windowsill. I opened the lacy curtains to let in the light of the first-quarter moon.

"It's a beautiful night outside, Pumpkin" I said to my tiny daughter who had begun to stir. "The moon on the snow is pretty as a picture."

Maggie waved a fist as I lifted her from the cradle that Ike had made for her. I held her close with my arm as I unfastened the top buttons of my flannel nightgown and seated us in the rocking chair. I rocked and hummed softly as she suckled away; I listened to the soft hish of the wind outside and the quiet murmur of Buck's voice in the kitchen downstairs.

Ike was with him and Lou was long since asleep in the big bed in the guest room. She and Buck had moved in with us the summer before when I was still expecting Maggie. I had blown up like a huge ball with the heat and a worried Doc Barnes had put me on bed rest. I'd fretted and fumed, all right, but Ike had put his foot down firm and Buck and Lou had come to help out. And when my time came, it had been Lou who'd delivered Maggie with Ike's help. Shortly after Maggie's birth Lou had given us the happy news that she and Buck would be parents sometime late in the spring.

Doc Barnes, concerned over Lou's previous miscarriage, had placed her on bedrest until the morning sickness passed. It had been a hard time for both Buck and Lou, I knew; she felt guilty about not being able to help out but was helpless to do anything about it. And Buck, though neither he nor Ike had said anything to me, was beyond worried about Lou and their baby.

I knew that the two of them were talking downstairs and I hoped Ike would be able to get through to Buck that he was doing everything he possibly could - and should. Ike had had his worries with me but as a midwife I had seen and heard much, and he had learned to trust my judgement. Oh, I'd shooed him away at first, hating to be fussed over, but I knew Ike only wanted to help and in time I let him.

Maggie, I saw, had stopped nursing; I'd been so deep in thought I hadn't noticed she'd drained the breast dry. I chuckled and rubbed between her shoulderblades, rewarded as always with a huge belch that never failed to make me laugh. I placed her on the other breast and she suckled and tugged away vigorously. I stroked her fuzzy little head, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

I loved my home and life here in Rock Creek. I had received a warm welcome when I arrived. After pestering Doc Barnes to let me help him out he had soon taken me under his wing, saying he had far too much work as it was and a nurse-midwife was just what this town needed. The townsfolk took to me pretty quickly, most of them newcomers themselves. And when I met up with the Express riders I made friends - and found family.

Lou and I became fast friends and I began to see more of the Express family as I spent more time at the way station. But it was Ike who became my closest friend. He may not have been able to speak but he found ways to make his feelings known as we pounded nails with hammers, repaired rickety steps, and strung wire at the homestead I'd purchased. The silent and gentle man spoke volumes and became first my friend and then my lover...and now my husband.

He joined me presently in our bedroom just as I was about to put Maggie down for the night. He took her from me and kissed her forehead, her chubby cheeks, her tiny fingers. After he set her down in the cradle he signed to her *I love you, Pumpkin* as he did every night.

I sat on the chair in front of the mirror. "How is Buck?" I asked quietly as I brushed my hair. "Were you able to reassure him some?"

*Yes...I talked some common sense into him* Ike replied before lowering his suspenders. *He knows that now they just have to wait and let nature take its course*

"I'm glad for that, Ike" I said softly, setting the brush on the chest of drawers and pulling down the bedclothes. "Lou looks wonderful and chances are their baby is just fine, too."

Ike slung his trousers and shirt over the back of the chair. He drew me in close to him and kissed me tenderly on the mouth. *Would it be a safe time for us to - uhm - let nature take its course, do you think?* he asked with a cheeky grin.

"Oh, well...I think we could" I said with a smile. "Mrs. Hooper has given me plenty of advice on the subject. Any woman with nine children should know when and when not to."

Ike laughed his silent hearty laugh and lifted my nightgown up and off. I made short work of the buttons on his longjohns; they soon joined the nightgown in a heap on the floor. I turned down the wick in the oil lamp and blew out the flame...and turned to my husband.

He was a giving, caring man and lover who always put my pleasure ahead of his. Since Maggie's birth I'd felt all the love but not so much my own desire. But this night I felt the desire return in a huge wave like the sea as Ike kissed me everywhere, his hands roaming my body until he rested at the juncture of my thighs. His strong fingers gently spread me open and to my surprise I found I was silkily wet, so ready for him. I pushed, hard, against his hand as it began to move, kissed him deeply, breathlessly, touched him the way he loved to be touched. We joined as one, moved as one, fell into ecstasy as one...

He held me close and soon drifted off. I lay awake for a bit, loving the feel of his arms about me, and slipped into sleep thinking of my journey to Rock Creek.

**A/N: Some of Emily's past was told in The Smallest Things but not in great detail. Now we will learn about her from her POV.**

**Thank you, so much, for the terrific feedback from "All the Pieces of Me". Reviews are true soul food, appreciated immensely and never taken for granted. Mwah! (((((((HUGS)))))))**


	2. Chapter 2

My Heart's Desire

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Young Riders.**

Chapter !

Papa always said I was the spitting image of mama. I remembered him saying that back in my earliest days, and it warmed my little girl's heart to think that I looked like my mother, Tiina. To me she was as beautiful as Ilona in the fairy tale about the true bride, with her soft light brown hair, pink cheeks, and blue eyes.

Mama's people had come to this country long ago from Finland, a place that seemed impossibly far away. I had been born in San Francisco, as had mama; the windy, damp city with its fog rolling in from the ocean was all I'd ever known. Finland, with its long dark winters and short bright summers, sounded like a land out of a book. Papa's people, he told me, had come here from England a hundred years ago. England sounded like a place that was both imaginable and real as I had heard of it before from other people, and San Francisco had lots of English people.

Papa's name was Carl. He looked far more ordinary than mama with his brown hair and light brown eyes. I knew that I really looked like both papa and mama with my ordinary brown hair and light green eyes, and mama's high cheekbones and broad straight nose.

When I was little, we lived in the top floor apartment of a middle-aged building where I had a bedroom of my very own. It was a building that housed several families in a quiet, clean neighbourhood. Papa worked down on the docks at the harbourfront helping to load the ships bound for the ocean. He made enough money that mama didn't have to go out to work. As I helped her with the household tasks, she told me the tales of Finland she had been told as a girl, as had her mother and grandmother before her. She taught me all she had been taught as a girl as well: how to keep house, to cook, to sew, to knit and to crochet. I began to make my own aprons as soon as I was able to handle a needle and thread. Mama sewed all of our clothing herself. Together we kept our home spotlessly clean and shining. I loved the way the sun shone through the lacy curtains in the afternoons, how it made patterns on the gleaming golden brown wooden floors.

Mama made our home a wonderful place with the rich smells of spices and bread. While the pastries baked and the bread rose, mama taught me my letters, then how to read, and then how to do figures. I surprised papa one day when I brought him his paper as I always did, and instead of handing it to him I began to slowly read one of the stories inside. Papa swept me up into his arms; he kissed my cheek and I giggled when his mustache tickled.

"Five years old and smart as a whip you are, Emmy" he laughed, setting me down again. I looked over at mama, standing in the kitchen doorway with a dishrag in her hands. To my surprise I saw tears in her eyes. Mama never cried.

"Have I made you sad, mama? I'm sorry" I said, running over to hug her. She wiped her eyes with the cloth.

"No, child...I am happy. Happy that God saw fit to bless papa and I with you" she said with a smile.

Her answer satisfied my child's mind for a time. There was always lots to do to keep busy: shopping at the greengrocer's and the butcher for our food; at the mercantile for our dry goods; at the fish market for the freshest fish. Mama taught me how to make soap for our dishes and clothing and baths. On Sundays, papa and I walked all over the city. Most of all, I loved when papa took me down to the docks at the harbour where he worked. He showed me the tall ships he helped to load for their ocean voyages; they went to places all over the world, to Russia and China and the islands of the South Pacific where it was always warm.

As I got older, Mama allowed me a little more freedom, allowed me to play with the other little girls from first our building and then our street. We played happily in the yard on dry days; on foggy days when the damp chilled us to the bone we played inside at one of our apartments. Many times our play was cut short by the arrival of a younger brother or sister who hollered "Sarah! Hattie! Mama says to come home _right now!_"

I was sad, and would ask "Why do you have to go so soon?" The little girl in question would shrug and answer "I have to help mama with the baby."

I thought back to mama who said she was happy because God had blessed her and papa with me. I wondered if Sarah's mama was happy to have been blessed with four children, or Hattie's mama with eight? Had God blessed them more because they were extra good people? What about the Catholic families of even ten children or more? Did God love them more?

One rainy day I helped mama knead bread dough in the warm kitchen. I was seven years old, and a little taller than I had been; I thought that made me smarter. "Mama?" I said quietly.

"Yes, Emily" she replied just as quietly.

"Why don't I have brothers and sisters? Like Sarah, and Hattie..." My voice trailed off into silence. Mama didn't answer me right away and I feared she would tell me to mind my manners, to not speak of such things.

Instead, she slowly wiped her hands on her spotlessly clean apron. She sat on a kitchen chair and drew me onto her lap, stroked my hair. "Because, dear one" she said softly, "God has not seen fit to bless your papa and I with more children."

"Oh" I said thoughtfully. "But you and papa are good people. Does that mean God doesn't love you?"

"No, child. It means that we must be content, and to love the gift that God has given us."

I rested my head on her shoulder and considered this. "Do children come from God, then?" I asked. "Does He send them to us?"

"Yes, Emily." I could tell by her voice that mama was smiling. "Children are a gift from God. He gives to us as He sees fit."

"Oh." I didn't understand what she meant. I had seen women with huge bellies who were whispered to be "with child". Did they have to get fat before God would send them a baby from heaven? How did they get here? Did they fall down out of the sky?

Fortunately, mama interrupted my distressed imaginings."That is all you need to know. Come - there is much to do before papa comes home." Mama spoke with quiet authority and I knew the subject was closed. The mysteries of God and babies would have to wait for another time.

In the meantime, I was growing by leaps and bounds and so was the city. Gold had been discovered the year before and people poured in by the thousands to seek their fortunes. San Francisco spread out in an untidy sprawl, desperately trying to house the flood of new arrivals. All kinds of new establishments seemed to spring up everywhere overnight, places with strange names: gambling houses, brothels, opium dens. I didn't understand what they were, but I instinctively feared them. Only bad people went to places like that. Papa told mama and I to always keep the doors locked and never to venture outside alone at night.

The city grew; I grew. I quickly outgrew my dresses and pinafores and stockings; mama now needed my help with knitting and sewing in earnest to keep us all clothed. And as San Francisco's character began to change, so did mine. I began to see the world around me differently.

Whenever I helped mama hang the wash on the clotheslines up on the roof, I could see the city all around, as far as the harbour and to the ocean. When I was a little girl I thought it was a gracious, enchanted place with its hills and gardens and ships. My nine year-old self saw a more crowded, dirty place. The city had turned somehow ugly and grimy.

Papa and mama had changed too, it gradually began to take longer and longer to get home after work, and I heard mama accuse him of stopping at saloons to play cards; she could smell the very whiskey on his breath, he stank of it so.

Papa tried to deny this at first. But late one night when I should have been asleep but wasn't, I heard him tell mama what he said was the truth. He told her that he was having trouble hanging onto his job, that the immigrant workers found favour because they were willing to work for less money. A card game and a drink or two with his bosses was one way to stay on his bosses' good side. Mama scoffed at that, saying she believed he was going back to his old ways, whatever that meant.

She was not at all happy. Lines of worry began to appear around her eyes and mouth as she watched the clock every night, as it grew later and later every night. When he did come home I was already in bed; I could hear them argue in fierce whispers. They never had argued like this before.

I heard things around me as well, things that my friends had heard from their older sisters and their friends. Babies, they sneered, didn't come from God or heaven at all. No, men and women made babies together in bed at night when they were alone in the dark. And the women with huge bellies already had babies growing inside of them. There was even a name for it, one that I dare not speak of for fear mama would wash my mouth out with soap and forbid me from seeing my friends from whom I learned such filth.

All of these events shook me to the very core. I realized that at my age there was still so much I was too young to understand. But I wondered a lot: I wondered about papa and mama and babies, and papa playing cards and drinking, and mama worrying so. I wondered if there would come a night when papa didn't come home at all. And if that happened, what would become of mama and I? What would we do then?

I lay awake many nights, wondering what was going to happen to me and my family. What actually did happen changed all of our lives forever.

**A/N: Research for this story thus far has been fascinating; being from Canada I have never known a whole lot of American history. But I have learned that Finns did come to your country in the 17th century, and who knows? Maybe some did settle in northern California.**

**I have delved into some of the Finnish fairy tales, and they are utterly charming! Ilona was the heroine in the tale of The True Bride.**

**It seems that the Gold Rush of 1848 did change San Francisco drastically and very quickly. The population grew from around 10,000 to 29,000 in the space of a year I believe it was.**

**As I said in my notes before the prologue, Emily and events in her life as I am telling them do not necessarily hold true with the Emily in Presence of Mine Enemies. But please, do let me know what you think - I do so love to hear from everyone. ML :)**

**P.S. I have made a guesstimate that Emily was born in the year 1842. This would make her 19 years old in 1861. ML**


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